blood
by vanilla burry
Summary: Not every child can be protected.


**blood**

**author's note: **there's this image on tumblr that someone drew of the Guardian's standing in a circle, mourning the loss of the children from the shooting last December. The picture is beautiful and this short drabble is not even close to giving it nor the event the respect it deserves. I was inspired by the picture and wished to write something that could capture the emotion or feelings about the event. I'm not sure this did what I'd hoped it would. But I hope you feel something. Onward and upward.

* * *

They'd all lost children once, not through age or just disbelief, but through blood and guns and war. Cautiously, Jack knelt to wrap an arm around the fairies' shaking shoulders, "It's gonna be okay," he whispered. Tooth shook her head and buried her face in her arm feathers. Her voice was muffled and very soft, "No, it's not, Jack. It's not."

"I-Is there anything I can do to help?" the winter spirit asked as he turned from his feathered friend and gazed at the three remaining magical beings. For a long while no one answered, they stood together with arms around one another, lost in thought and woe. This new feeling, this depression and disappointment and guilt, washed over Jack in a strong wave that left him numb and shaken.

"We're _supposed_ to protect the children of the world," North said finally. His voice was unnaturally hoarse and angry. The very sound of it frightened Jack. North was the jolliest of them all, always big smiles and warmth. It was a little overbearing at times, sure, but it was a welcome constant that was always there when Jack needed it. "…and we couldn't."

Sandy placed a soft hand to North's elbow. Overhead he created small golden stars, wings and halos in his dream sand. Small angels rose from the long strands of sand around his fingertips. Slowly they intertwined with the items overhead. The wings attached to the angels' back sand the halos sat just above their heads. Their wings flapped spreading soft gold sand into the air. They flew up high overhead. So high, Jack had to lean back in order to watch them disappear in a small pop and a cloud golden dust. Jack's mouth fell open in a small O. "That's beautiful, Sandy," he whispered, but none of the others shared his enthusiasm.

"I-I can't believe-e they're gone," Tooth sobbed, tears slipped from her eyes and matted the soft feathers below her chin. Jack reached out and to wipe them away, but instead they froze to his fingers and became small icicles. Tooth offered him a soft smile.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he said.

"It's… okay."

But it wasn't. Protecting children, making them laugh and smile and happy, came naturally to him. He lived for the thrill and basked in the glory of a child showing their parent the snowman they made of the dozen angels they'd formed on the ground.

But having to pick up the pieces of a broken family, having to deal with loss of a child he knew he should've and could've saved hurt him more than he cared to admit. The others had lost children before. Famine, disease, natural disasters, the list went on and on. But each time, created another throbbing wound.

"We were doing really good," replied Bunny as he nibbled his lower lip. "Hadn't lost one in quite a while, we did. And now…" he trailed off, but Jack understand where he was going.

"It was another child that hurt them," Jack added, "Not an adult, it was another one like them. Only a few years older. And now they're…" The word seemed to hang in the tense air around him. Jack felt as though he was suffocating. That strong, disgusting word. Worse than any swear or curse.

"Their families," Tooth whispered, "Their _parents_."

"And right before the winter holidays," North finished. Carefully he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, wooden train with metal wheels and warm, candy-made smoke that floated from the smoke stack. It was painted a deep blue with a yellow 'A' across the cart it carried.

"Was that for…?"

"Specially made," North nodded, replacing the toy back into his pocket, "He asked for it three years in a row... took quite a while to make. "

"Happy freakin' Christmas," retorted the Easter spirit dryly.

Tooth rubbed the bridge of her nose between two long fingertips. "What could we have done? There must've been something."

"What's done is done, m'dear," North replied, "We must move forward."

"I-I don't know if I can."

Jack couldn't think of single word to say, for once he was at a loss. Comforts and soft words, _it'll be alright_ and _its gonna all turn out okay_ came to his lips but he didn't dare utter them. Because, it wasn't going to be okay. It was going to hurt and hurt a lot. The pain was hard; it knotted his stomach and made his breath hard to catch. Jack had never thought of death or aging or disease or disaster. The kid's he protected, he knew they grew up and knew they made more kids for him to watch over and so on and so forth. But never did he sit back and think of the first kids, and that over time they died just like their parents before them.

The thought of Jamie came to his mind and Jack tried his best to push it back out. But all he could see was his young friend with the gapped tooth smile. He saw him ageing before his eyes, becoming older and frailer. He saw a gun pushed to his friends' head or blood drawn, sick with an incurable disease. He'd never thought of Jamie dying, he just assumed the brunette little boy would always be there. Tooth had scooted closer to Jack. Her eyes were slightly red and her cheeks were raw. "Jack?" she whispered, and he could see the panic in her expression. She opened her arms and he leaned into her soft embrace. The world swam before his eyelids. _Not Jamie. _

"Boy's gonna faint," he heard Bunnymund mutter gruffly as he slipped into unconsciousness.


End file.
